He who walks the soul

Death, faded memory to nothing Emptiness bares the skin's reflected pain Eyes of the soul's depths Pains torcher drives its fiery Personality rage to desire temptation What is a soul except its being Buried beneath the dirt fields Where which that comes from the sun feeds Heart to feel such anguish emotion Like salt to a wound the burn The faded soil, winters toll Reality withering improvisation of dreams A simpler love for life's ambition Sourness of the wind crinkle still Life's storm, space traveler amongst us In another place, where we are Not ourselves but somebody, something What drives this beast out darkness So loved am I who walks light That its deception perceives me Where in my depths I hide feeling My heart wicked to minds perceptive Or in our own thought one breathes Reflection, stillness within life gives warmth Aspire dreamer to what one is to be